Mornel and her brothers pay a visit to their convalescing Arafinwian kinsmen.
A Time for Healing
Lady Eldalote's place was modest and but well-maintained. Mornel was surprised to see a page in palace livery open the door to them. The Noldoran must have assigned servants to his son's household in light of Angrod and Orodreth's illness. The page bade them wait in the parlour while he announced their arrival.
They did not have to wait long before Eldalote and Angrod arrived. Angrod was pale and there were dark shadows under his eyes. They exchanged polite greetings and Eldalote sent the page to fetch some refreshments, including pastries from a bakery in the next street. Their kitchen was ill-supplied to host such a large group of visitors.
"Forgive my shameful display yesterday," Angrod whispered hoarsely once the page left the room. "I fear my son and I have utterly disgraced His Majesty and my noble brother and marred the celebration. I know the servants whisper about us…"
"More fool they then, who judge without having faced for themselves the horrors of the Dagor Bragollach," Mornel replied quietly. Part of her was still annoyed by Finrod's reaction to his nephew the night before. "Uncle Ara does not fault you. Did he not send you healers and servants?"
"We are in his debt," Eldalote smiled wanly. Dark circles around her eyes suggested that she had been awake tending to her husband and son. The pair-bond between Eldar spouses might have also allowed her to experience her husband's nightmares if he failed to shield his mind from hers properly. Such dark visions would unsettle any elf, what more one who had only known the peace of Aman?
There had been dark days in Formenos where Caranthir would shut himself away from his wife or vanish into the wilds to wrestle his own demons alone. Sometimes, Helwien would seek him out but more often, she let him be. They never spoke of it to Mornel, for such were matters to be worked out as a couple. The Ambarussa had worked out their own demons with each other before marrying to better protect their gently-bred wives. Sometimes, it was the sisters who sought comfort from their respective spouses when their own nightmares came. The four were said to be unusually close, even for wedded elves.
"How fares Orodreth?" Isilmire asked quietly.
"In reverie. His wife and daughter are by his bedside…" Eldalote replied. "The healers have dosed him heavily…" Angrod picked awkwardly at the stitching on his robe. He was embarrassed by his son's behaviour.
"Turin slew Glaurung but his shadow remains…" Mornel surmised. She had reread the tale many times over in its many incarnations from both Quendi and Edain perspectives. She and Finrod had discussed the events many times with Elros and later his son before Rumil and Vardamir compiled a manuscript from the consolidated tales. Finrod had later added to the manuscript from the eyewitness accounts of re-embodied elves who had fallen defending Nargothrond.
"I fear for Finduilas too. That matter with Gwindor and Turin…" Eldalote twisted her handkerchief in her hands. Mornel nodded. Many painted the Princess of Nargothrond as a flighty, superficial creature of little faith. However, Mornel suspected there was more to her cousin.
"Now, Finrod, aren't we being too hasty?" Amarie coaxed. Since his recovery so long ago, she had never seen her husband in such a state. Stepping into his parents' chambers, Celeglass gave one look at his father and quickly retreated without a word.
"I'm sorry, Amarie… It is just that I am still mad at Orodreth for that entire mess! I know it is not his fault but I can't help it!"
"Let's see, someone is mad because he can't punch Turin, slay a certain dragon, or kick a certain fallen Maia in the butt, so he settles for scaring the piss out of our little coward," a voice declared.
Finrod turned to see a smirking Caranthir in the doorway. His arm was still in a sling.
"What brings you here?"
"My little siblings are visiting Angrod, but I don't suppose he would want to see me again so soon."
"Wasn't that sling on the other arm?"
"Ask your son. If you need to let off steam, go spar with Angrod or Arakano. Better still, go wrestle a bear. I should really hit you but my wrists hurt," Caranthir drawled. "Are all the Arafinwions such morons like their father?"
"You are a jerk, Caranthir, and leave my father out of it," Finrod swung a fist at his cousin. It connected with Caranthir's jaw with a loud crack.
"Finrod!" Amarie gave a cry of alarm as their visitor sank down onto the carpet.
Mornel was glad that she had listened to her instincts and brought along her harp for the visit. She and her law-sisters now worked what healing they could with their song to dispel the shadows that remained over Angrod. Although the Ambarussa had little talent in Songs of Healing, they lent their voices to their sister's and wives'.
With her music, Mornel painted the wild steppes shining gold under the setting sun as she had seen in the west of Formenos. Angrod and his brother would have lived for a time in a similar country, now lost beneath the waves. She sang of peace and rebirth - life returning anew. They were surprised when Angrod chose to add his voice to the song, singing of two brothers riding on the plains.
Her cousin wanted to recover but he was pushing himself too hard. A worried Eldalote tugged at his elbow but he refused to be dissuaded. Teary-eyed, the Ambarussa and their wives fell silent, affected perhaps by the sorrowful melody Angrod had inadvertently added of brothers parted. Mornel recognized the signs. The shadow on Angrod was now awake but not yet purged.
Mornel recalled how it had been like when Finrod's melody had twisted and run amok so long ago. Where he lacked his brother's subtlety, the intensity of his emotions gave his Song unexpected strength. The flames were there now, licking at the dry grass. Pityo whimpered, leaning against Telvo for comfort. Everyone seemed entranced by the runaway Song. Burning, battle… death… Angrod's face twisted in agony as he sang.
Wildfire was a part of life on the steppes, a part of the seasons. Mornel fought to regain control of the Song. She sang of rains that would quench the flames, of the fallen Elves returning in the peaceful gardens of Lorien. Tentatively adding her voice, Eldalote sang of the new grass and wildflowers that would rise from the charred ground after the fire had passed. She was trying to reach her husband and snatch him back from the shadows of his first life.
Somewhere above them, two ellyth started singing a duet favoured by Sindar elflings, breaking the spell. Angrod's face took on a serene look. The shadows had lifted for now.
"I'm sorry, cousin…" Angrod apologized when he came to himself. "The Song, it just took a life of its own…"
"It's alright," Mornel panted. Her cousin had a will of iron. It had been hard fighting his Song. She was exhausted. Her muscles ached. It had felt like swimming against the current in a spring flood.
"Grandfather, is everything already?" a flushed Finduilas poked her head into the parlour. "The page is here with the pastries. He asks permission to leave as he feels a bit unwell…"
"The lad has our permission to go home and rest…" Angrod called out a little too cheerfully. He exchanged a look with his guests that said not a word about what had just transpired was to be mentioned to his granddaughter. Mornel nodded but she suspected that the intervention by Finduilas and her naneth was not by accident. A smiling Finduilas brought in the pastries on her grandmother's best china.
"It's hard… being so helpless… watching them burn…"
"I know… but at least it was not your father who set that fire."
Mornel discreetly drew back and held Eldalote back as well, there was no hurry to wash the plates. Two elves, one redhead, one blond, were standing in the hallway, apparently studying a rather insipid watercolour painting of Orodreth as an elfling. After delivering his apology. Angrod had hastily left the parlour. Pityo had then excused himself to use the privy.
"We left the retreat too late and the flames cut us off…"
"We all make mistakes…"
"I still miss having Aegnor about…"
"I suppose he will be out if he gets tired of waiting. Fire destroys, but it also renews and purifies."
"I suppose I should put some weight in your words of wisdom, son of the Spirit of Fire," Angrod hugged Pityo from the side in a show of comradeship. Pityo made a face.
"I heard that from Grandfather Mahtan in the forge last month when they were making new helms for the palace guard… I do hope we are both stronger for what happened to us in Beleriand, if only because it really hurt getting to Mandos!"
"Caranthir, can't I leave you alone for an hour?" Helwien chided as she dabbed at her husband's cheek, which was turning an interesting colour.
"I didn't expect Finrod to start throwing punches… That's what Angrod normally does!" Caranthir protested with a wince. He bit back a retort when Mornel glared at him.
"Knowing he is in a foul mood, you rode to his villa outside the city walls for the express intention of insulting him, his father, and his brothers?" Mornel shook her head in disbelief. Caranthir could be bluntly honest to a fault.
"So how did the visit go?" Helwien asked.
"Angrod's feeling better and intends to visit Finrod tomorrow," Mornel replied. And hopefully lay to rest some shadows from their time in Beleriand. "Orodreth was not well enough to receive visitors."
"Well, I hope they sort out their problems," Caranthir murmured.
"Pityo's found some common ground with Cousin Angrod and gave him some advice," Mornel said tersely. Caranthir did not need to know his brother had extended an invitation for Angrod and his family to visit Formenos and for Angrod to visit the forges in particular to slowly come to terms with his fear of fire.
Author's Notes:
Mornel was focusing on a very specific part of Dorthornion – the plains, which she approximated with the steppes. She would not have known how the place looked like when Angrod and his brother held it.
A bit of a replay of that incident in Formenos with Finrod and the Songs. Mornel must be feeling annoyed her attempt at healing backfired.